Crossed Lines
by Uruk
Summary: A handsome, young Blighter finds out what it's like when the charming and deadly Jacob Frye comes to town. Eventual Jacob/male OC. Slow build up. Also bit of Jacob/Abberline because Jacob is a flirt. T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

~Theo~

Theodore Blackwood stood outside the ring of a London fight club, watching intently at his competition as a raucous crowd roared around him. A rather skilled brawler, Theo could hardly wait for his turn- especially now as he witnessed the uncommon prowess of a mysterious newcomer currently wiping the floor with two other fighters at the same time. Both of them twice his size no less.

"Leave some for me, Jacob!" Theo heard a woman shout not five paces to his left, and he turned to see her freckled cheeks and bright blue eyes beaming at the unfolding fight. Theo cocked an eyebrow. Few women even set foot into the clubs, let alone fought in the ring, but from the intensity of her gaze he could tell that she'd be able to hold her own out there, given the chance.

Theo turned his attention back to this "Jacob" fellow, who was a blur of slick hair, fine features, and tight muscle as he moved throughout the ring. Then suddenly, the scrappy little guy turned and gave the freckled girl the biggest, cheekiest grin that Theo had ever seen, and he was shocked that such an apparently skilled fighter would lose focus and drop his guard like that mid-fight. One of Jacob's opponents took the opportunity to lunge forward, putting all of his remaining energy into a final blow aimed directly at Jacob's face.

Jacob ducked beneath the blow before he even fully turned to face his opponent, and in a single, fluid motion he landed an uppercut that hammered into the poor man's jaw dropping him like a sack of lead. Jacob's remaining opponent completely lost his nerve and quickly exited the ring.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy, and as that little weasel Robert Topping boisterously declared Jacob the winner of the round, Theo was trying to decide whether Jacob was a goofy dolt or a sneaky genius. He would find out for himself soon enough.

"Great, my turn," Theo shrugged his shoulders a few times to loosen up, and as he pre-emptively made his way to the ring, he looked up at the good seats for Maxwell Roth, who had bet quite a bit of money on him to win tonight. He spotted Roth and smirked when the older man winked at him. The pressure was certainly on now.

"Blackwood!" A gravely voice yelled at him above the commotion, its tone stopping Theo in his tracks.

"What's the matter, Clobber?" he asked, annoyed because he knew that the enormous, bald-headed man making his way toward him sounded urgent. It was never good when Clobber sounded urgent.

"Time to go, Theo," Clobber stated, grabbing Theodore firmly by the arm.

"Damn, it man. This is horrific timing, you know that," Theo gritted his teeth and shot a glance up at Roth, who was looking down at them questioningly.

"You know I wouldn't bother if it wasn't important," Clobber sounded genuinely apologetic, so Theo relented and followed the larger man out. He could feel Roth's daggered gaze on the back of his neck as he exited the building. He'd have to deal with that, along with smacking the goofy grin off that Jacob fellow's face, at a later date.

Clobber broke out into a jog as soon as they hit the street, and Theo cursed the chill as he followed the bald man into the driver's seat of a carriage. He was still geared up for his fight, and so was shirtless.

"You don't have an extra jacket do you?" Theo knew the answer before the question left his lips.

"Nah, but here," Clobber removed his own red Blighter jacket and gave it Theo as they drove off. The other man was so burly that his white undershirt was sufficient enough to keep him warm anyway.

"Thanks, now can you please tell me what the hell is so important?" Theo huffed as he threw the jacket on and buttoned it up, "And where we're going would be a nice bit of info too while you're at it."

"Miss Thorne has summoned us," Clobber stated grimly after a long pause."

Theo's eyes went wide and his mouth parted slightly as he stared at Clobber, "What the hell for?"

"Don't know," Clobber rubbed his bald head before stating quietly, "She scares me, though."

If Theo didn't know any better, he would have thought that was a ridiculous statement coming from someone like Clobber. But he did know better.

The pair sat in silence for the rest of the trip, and when they finally exited the carriage it was more than the chilly night air that was giving Theo gooseflesh.

They saw Thorne outside a warehouse, standing as though her spine was made of iron, red hair ablaze in the moonlight peeking through the gathering clouds. She was surrounded by a cadre of their fellow Blighters and a pair of Templar lieutenants.

Theodore's sister- Bloody Nora herself- was among the assembly as well.

"Shit," Theo whispered as he exhaled. This really was serious.

"Mr…. _Clobber_? And Mr. Blackwood. You're late," She wasn't speaking loudly, and yet Thorne's voice still managed to pierce through the air with the sharp precision of a whip.

"My apologies, Miss Thorne!" Clobber stammered as he wrung his hands nervously, "We came as quickly as we could," he elbowed Theo, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, well. Now we may proceed," Thorne clasped her hands behind her back, "I've gathered you here tonight, the most promising of the Blighters, to inform you of some news that should trouble you all. Before that, however, I wish to discuss productivity and new directives," She stepped into the empty warehouse and her audience followed.

Thorne spoke for nearly an hour, and although Theo payed attention for most of her speech, he couldn't quite keep his mind from drifting to the fight he missed with Jacob. That lopsided grin was so vivid in his mind's eye. As were the tattoos on Jacob's chest and arm. Theo imagined that they would have had one hell of a great match.

"No doubt you are familiar with the Clinkers?" Thorne paused as her audience nodded and grumbled amongst themselves.

 _Clinkers_? Now there was a word that snapped Theo back to attention. Those green little roaches had been all but wiped out. Hadn't they?

"They've been reorganizing," Thorne continued as though she'd read Theo's mind, "While you grow complacent they move swiftly, guided by an invisible- and as of yet unidentified- hand."

More mutters from the Blighters. Theo shifted his weight and glanced at his sister, who was grinding her lower lip slowly between her teeth, her eyes narrowing to slits at the news.

"As I speak, they plan to move against Kaylock," Thorne paused yet again, her eyes darting from face to face, "who couldn't even be bothered to show up to our little gathering, I see. The foolish lout."

The tone of gathered Blighters quickly began to resemble the crowd in the fight club before Thorne silenced them all with a loud clap.

"You are the front line in our hold on this city. You will remain vigilant, and you _will_ stamp out these pests before they grow in strength and number. Any and all information in regards to their leadership will be relayed to me as soon as it is divulged. Am I clear?"

Thorne was met with a cacophony of "Yes's" and "Yeah's."

"Spread the word," she barked, "Dismissed."

The Blighters disappeared quickly into the night, and as he watched them leave, Theo figured that quite a bit of Clinker blood would color the streets before the sun came up. He turned to leave with Clobber.

"One moment, Mr. Blackwood."

Theo's heart dropped to his feet as he stopped dead in his tracks, "Yes, Miss Thorne?"

Clobber looked on helplessly as he continued to make his way toward the carriage, and Theo was grateful when the larger man waited for him after climbing into the driver's seat.

"Your sister here informs me that you show quite a bit of promise," Thorne continued as Theodore shot a glance at Nora, "And that you possess skills a rung or two above that of your run-of-the-mill thug at any rate."

Theo opened his mouth as if to say something, despite not having the slightest clue what to say besides, 'God damn you, Nora.' So he kept quiet.

"I require someone who can move unhindered through places which I and my peers cannot," Thorne continued, "I have a task that requires the utmost discretion."

"Yes, Miss Thorne," Theo was at a loss. He knew he wouldn't like whatever Thorne had in mind for him, but he most certainly couldn't decline. This was a command, not a request.

Thorne proceeded to speak of things which the rank and file Blighters had no knowledge of, and Theo did his best to keep up with her, which was challenging since she insisted on remaining as vague as possible.

"I am searching for an artifact that will cement our hold on this city."

Theo's brows furrowed at Thorne's words.

"It is a task that none but myself will undertake. However, there is a lesser artifact hidden within this city that I need you locate. One that will provide aid to my efforts."

"Artifacts? I don't…"

"There is only so much information that I can allow you to possess," Thorne interrupted, "I must keep you in darkness, while providing you with a means to make your way through it. Here are your directives."

She handed him a sealed note.

"This will have to suffice for now, until your skills are proven. We will be in touch."

"Miss Thorne," Nora dipped her head slightly as the high ranking Templar turned away from them, her heels clicking evenly on the pavement as she and her two lieutenants boarded a carriage and disappeared into the growing fog.

A shiver wracked through Theo's spine once she had left.

"What the _fuck_ , Nora?" he growled.

"You should be honored you ungrateful little prick," Nora retorted, giving her younger, but considerably taller brother a shove.

"Are you out of your mind?" Theo was nearly shouting now, "Are you out of your goddamn _mind_!"

"Get a hold of yourself, _Teddy_ ," Nora snarled, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him close as she emphasized his childhood nickname, which Theo loathed, with a smug venom. He could feel her spit landing in the stubble on his chin as she spoke quietly and intensely, "You had better not fuck this up, you hear?"

He freed himself from her grip and wiped his chin, "So what do you _gain_ from this?" he asked quietly, regaining his composure, "Why peddle this bullshit about my 'skills' to Thorne?"

"You were always a clever lad, Teddy," Nora's voice rose nearly to that of the young girl who used to tease him relentlessly not so very long ago.

"And you were always a selfish little snake," he retorted.

Nora shrugged and produced a musical laugh that would have been quite charming had he not known her for all these years, "You pull this off, baby brother, and I'll get in good with Thorne."

"And if I don't?"

Nora said nothing this time. She merely pulled a knife from her belt, flipped it into the air, caught it and gave the blade a quick bite before sheathing it again.

"Charming," Theo deadpanned.

"Hey, _I_ won't be the one to gut you," she stated innocently.

"But you're the one leading me to the slaughterhouse. Why whore me out to Thorne instead of doing her bidding yourself, anyway? Why share the glory? That's not your style."

"Because I'm busy running these damned streets. Getting my hands bloody, unlike _you_ ," Her tone was accusatory, as though he had slighted her personally, "You're getting _soft_ , Teddy. Don't think I don't know."

Theo glared at her, but said nothing.

"I'm giving you a chance to prove yourself. So be sure not to disappoint," With that, Nora marched off with four of her goons in tow.

"Thanks, sis. Have a wonderful night," Theo called out to her, surprising himself with how pleasant he managed to sound.

Without turning to face him, Nora raised her right arm and wiggled all of her fingers at him as she melted into the now dense fog.

"Perfect. Just bloody perfect," Theo muttered. Then he chuckled as it started to drizzle. He simply had to after what had taken place. Nora must have spun quite the convincing yarn about his capabilities to get Thorne to notice him. If only he were wearing his bowler cap. He could have thrown it on the ground and stepped on it. That would have made him feel better, surely. He sighed and made his way back to Clobber.

~Jacob~

"Marvelous! Simply marvelous!" Robert Topping shouted, his enormous top hat swaying about on his head as he handed Jacob a victory belt and lifted the assassin's arm up to officiate him as the night's uncontested winner. Jacob soaked in the cheers of the crowd as he stepped out of the ring.

He noticed that the well-built, dark haired young man who had been staring at him intently throughout the duration of his first three rounds had vanished- which was a pity since the guy looked like quite the fighter, and he had quite immaculately groomed facial stubble too.

Jacob met Evie by the exit as the crowd thinned out, and she handed him his jacket. She had kept it neatly bundled to prevent it from getting dirty or wrinkled. Of course she had.

"I thought you'd join in," Jacob said as he threw the jacket on and placed his cap back on his damp hair.

"I decided against it," Evie replied, pulling her hood up. The two began walking as a chilly fog rolled in.

"Evie, Evie, Evie…." Jacob sighed, closing his eyes as he shook his head slowly, "Perhaps we should pay a visit to the cemetery."

"What? Why?" Evie stared at him, perplexed, until glimmer of hope cropped up in her voice, "So you can finally pay some respects to father?"

"Huh? Oh...well I was thinking more along the lines of paying my respects to your sense of fun and adventure. They seem to have expired some time ago," Jacob smirked, "A pity, really."

"Ugh, you're awful," Evie replied, folding her arms, "I decided against unnecessary energy expenditure. I need to be in top form for tomorrow, as Mr. Green and I shall resume our search for the Shroud. We've been able to narrow our search radius considerably this past week, and I believe that- ….Are you even _listening_ , Jacob?"

"Yes, yes," Jacob smiled, twirling his Kukri in one hand, "You need to be in top form for Greenie tomorrow. Heard you loud and clear."

" _Jacob..._ ," Evie said dangerously.

"Yes, my dearest sister?" Jacob teased in a little boy voice.

"Another word and I will feed you your victory belt, dearest brother," she quipped, punctuating the mock threat with a cordial, close-mouthed smile.

"So…" Jacob ventured after a hearty chuckle.

"Don't," Evie warned as they rounded a corner. She selected a building and began climbing it. Foot and road traffic had not quite thinned out yet, and the rooftops were close enough together in this neighborhood to make for a swifter, more efficient trip to their lodgings.

"About my…" Jacob continued, following her up to the roof.

"Jacob Frye!" Evie nearly shouted, placing her hands on her hips as though she were admonishing a child. She was also doing her damnedest to suppress a smile.

"RrrrRrrrrRrrrrROOKS!" Jacob beamed, waving his hands in her face.

Evie placed her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose and gave it a squeeze while closing her eyes, "Well, you managed to go an entire five hours this time," she sighed.

"It's a good idea, Evie. Come now! Can't you humor me a bit, at least?" Jacob hollered as they began jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

"I've humored you far too much already. It's why your head's gotten to be as big as it is," she retorted.

Jacob's only reply was to stick his tongue out at her.

The twins abruptly stopped their flight along the rooftops after landing on one that had a perched Blighter lookout armed with a gun. After a shout of surprise, the Blighter moved to aim his weapon at Jacob.

But the assassin was on him before he could lift the gun to eye level. Jacob leaped forward and jammed his hidden blade into the Blighter's windpipe, driving the man onto his back and slamming the back of his head on the roof tiles.

At that moment, a sizeable group of Blighters began spilling out from the front door of an abandoned warehouse across the street, their red and white garments cutting through the mist as they split off in various directions. Jacob quickly grabbed the body of the dead gunman by the scruff of his jacket to keep the corpse from sliding off the roof and attracting the attention of the other dispersing Blighters.

"That's Lucy Thorne!" Evie whispered, signaling for Jacob to descend from their current position and onto a balcony. She needed to get within earshot, since the red haired Templar had apparently stopped outside to speak privately to two Blighters, while a few others milled about the area.

"Hey, by the way, I've already started recruiting, you know," Jacob whispered, "At least twenty of those 'Clinkers' have agreed to work for us now."

"Hush, I'm trying to listen," she scolded. Unfortunately, by the time the twins inched close enough to properly see and hear the exchange, Thorne had ended her conversation and boarded a carriage, which began to swiftly drive off.

"We should tail her. I'd like to know what she's up to," Evie suggested, frowning when Jacob grunted at her.

"Do we?" he protested, "You already know what she's up to. 'Blah, blah, blah. Shroud. Rable, rable, Shroud, Shroud. Blah,' " Jacob paused to tap his chin, "You know, she's a lot like _you_ , come to think of it. You sure you're not related?" Jacob grinned.

"You realize that would also make _you_ related to Miss Thorne, yes?" Evie chided dryly.

Jacob grimaced, then shivered with distaste.

"Well, I'm starving. And a mite exhausted from the fight," Jacob admitted.

"Fine, then. Let's go," Evie relented, "Light weight," she added teasingly before running off in the direction of the lodgings they were sharing with Henry.

Jacob normally wouldn't have let that remark go unprotested, but he was momentarily distracted by an argument occurring between two Blighters outside the warehouse. However, the fog was getting thicker by the second and he could neither see them clearly nor hear what was being said, so he ignored them and chased off after his sister.

"Hey, Evie!" He called out once he had mostly caught up to her, "You think Greenie would make me some supper if I asked him really nicely?"

"Of course not!" Evie laughed.

"Well then _you_ need to make googly eyes at him. That'll work."

"Jacob!" she shouted, exasperated.

"Even better- Hold his hand and he'll make us four courses!"

~Theo~

"So… nice night…" Clobber attempted after several minutes of silence broken only by trotting hooves and the patter of raindrops. But a sudden peal of thunder accentuated the absurdity of his statement, and he wiped the rain off his brow.

Theo laughed, thankful for the bit of stress relief. He took a moment to look at the man seated beside him and decided that he had a rather friendly face for someone with a nickname like his.

"You ever going to tell me your real name, Clobber?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what Thorne had to say to you. All private like."

"That's hardly a fair trade," Theo considered for a moment before continuing, "Our lovely Miss Lucy gave me project... I really can't say anything more than that."

Clobber frowned, "Alright, well, my name starts with a 'B.' I can't say any more than that, either."

"Fair enough," Theo smiled as they neared his block, "You can drop me off here, Clobber. No need to go any more out of your way. Not on a night like this."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. And I'll make sure this jacket of yours is dry and nicely pressed when I return it. Have a good night, Clobbs. "

"Stay safe, brother," Clobber pulled out his knife and held it high in a clenched fist, emulating the Blighter's insignia. Theo did the same as Clobber drove off.

He was no more than ten paces from his apartment when a pair of Clinkers jumped him.

"Fuck," Theo grunted as he narrowly avoided a blade aimed at his abdomen, and then dropped nearly to his knees to prevent a second strike from ripping his face open. Jumping back to avoid a kick to the temple, Theo rolled quickly to gather his feet and bring himself to a balanced crouch. His attackers lunged at him in tandem, determined not to give him breathing room, which told him that they were likely not armed with any ranged weaponry.

"Fucking Clinker filth!" Theo roared as they struck at him again. He was generally a quiet guy, but possessed a deep voice that could resonate when he wanted it to.

"We ain't Clinkers any more, wanker!" one of them shouted while slashing at him frantically. Theo couldn't make either of their faces out in the gloom. He still had had his own knife out from when he had saluted Clobber not two minutes before, and still in a crouch, he buried it into the thigh of his closest assailant until he felt it hit bone. The ensuing whistle-high shriek of agony told him that this second Clinker was a woman. Unfazed by that knowledge, Theo dragged the knife mercilessly up the rest of her thigh before freeing it from her flesh and whirling around to face the second Clinker.

"How's that for soft, Nora?" he growled out loud, pulling out his Derringer and aiming it at the face of his remaining foe.

"Woah, woah, alright!" the man stammered, dropping his knife and bringing his hands up to cover his face. His knees began to buckle as Theo approached him with even steps.

The woman Clinker was still screaming, clutching her thigh in abject terror as she flailed about on the sidewalk, bleeding out from a severed femoral artery.

"You aren't Clinkers anymore, eh?" Theo snarled. His eyes darted left and right quickly in case there were any more of the bastards lying in wait, but he was satisfied that they were alone, "So who are you now? Speak up before you end up like your girlfriend here." As if to punctuate his threat, the woman had stopped screaming, her life's blood drained away on the pavement.

"R-r," the terrified man stuttered helplessly, which only added to Theo's disgust, "Rooks! We're the Rooks now! Please let me go!"

"And who leads you? Tell me or the only place you'll go is straight to hell."

"Jacob and Evie F-f-f-Frye! Please, Sir! Please!" The man started sobbing, and it was only then that Theo noticed how young the guy looked.

"Get the fuck out of here, boy," Theo brought his voice down to a forceful whisper, "Take those goddamned green clothes and burn them. If I hear that you're out on the streets wearing 'em again, I will find you and I _will_ kill you. _Understand_?"

"Yes!" the young man gasped and sprinted for his life.

With any luck, the kid would quit roaming the streets and get a proper job- if these new Rooks allowed for that sort of thing. Theo shrugged and figured that was unlikely.

"What a mess," he sighed as he looked at the body of the dead Rook. She, at least, looked a little older than the kid did. He grabbed the blood-soaked body and hoisted it onto his shoulder, instantly regretting it as he did so, "Sorry Clobbs. I'll have scrub the hell out of your jacket now," he muttered as he made his way down the block towards the train track overpass. At least Blighter jackets were red. Perhaps the staining wouldn't show that much.

He dumped her body in the muck below the bridge.

"I'll iron it too, Clobbs. Promise," His words were hollow and quiet as he stared at the body slowly sinking into the mud. Small bubbles of displaced air popped up around it.

Theo covered his face with his hands for a few moments before slicking his hair back and making his way back to his apartment.

The rain would wash the blood away, he told himself, staring at the red puddle flowing down the slope of the sidewalk. He fished around in the jacket's pocket to ensure that he hadn't lost Thorne's instructions in the struggle. His hands still shaking a bit, Theo unlocked the door to his tiny, dark apartment, and bolted it shut after he entered.


	2. Chapter 2

~Theo~

The clouds refused to part after last night's storm, but the veil of miniscule droplets hovering about in the air could hardly be called a drizzle. Theo was appreciative of that fact as he adjusted his bowler cap, crossed the street, and stepped onto the grounds of the Wolfshead Brewing Company, his current place of employment.

The Blighters were rotated throughout London and stationed at various operation points- small cogs in the machine of the Templar's hold over the city. Theo had been stationed here for several months now, tasked only with keeping the rest of the workers in line- the ones who actually got their hands dirty- which included six child laborers.

The four story high brick edifice loomed above him, washed out in the gray light, and he had almost made it inside when old man Samuel accosted him.

"Hey, Sonny. Just a few coppers if you can spare 'em. I'm in a real pinch today," the homeless beggar proclaimed in his ground-glass voice. He was looking decidedly water-logged.

"More so than usual, huh," Theo remarked sarcastically, "Where did you stuff yourself last night, gramps? You'll start growing mold on you if you aren't careful."

"Now you see here, you disrespectful little bastard!" Samuel shouted, incensed, as he waved his tree branch cane in Theo's face. While the old man flew into a rant about how his current station in life was everyone else's fault but his own, Theo noticed the pair of policemen who routinely patrolled the brewery- and who had been paid off by the Blighters to mostly ignore their numerous breaches in regulations- where watching them with suspicion.

"Careful, Sammy. Don't think Jackson wouldn't have you hauled off," Theo smirked, which only set the old man off even more.

"Yeah, well this'll be you one day, Blackwood," Samuel grumbled, his hoarse voice beginning to fail him, "Once your Blighters have no more use for you…. That is if your damned head ain't busted open by a Rook's bullet first."

Theo scowled and brushed past the old man.

"You're such a sweetheart, Sammy. You know that? I'm sure you'll understand if I'm no longer in a giving mood."

"Wait, wait! I didn't mean nothin' by it, Theodore," the venom in the beggar's voice was instantly replaced by a growing desperation. Theo grunted as he turned around to face Samuel again.

This back and forth between them had become quite the regular routine, with Samuel practically waiting for him on every one of his work mornings for a handout. The fact that Theo always gave the beggar something did nothing but reinforce the cycle over the past four months. In that time, Samuel's threadbare cloak had grown looser and looser over the old man's shrinking frame. The hump on his back had grown more prominent, and there was always that pleading look in his fog colored eyes.

Theo sighed and reached into his pocket.

"You're using all of this coin I've been giving you to buy yourself breakfast, right? Or saving up for a new coat?" Theo decided to ask, despite knowing better.

"That's none of your damned business, Sonny," Samuel grumbled once the money was in his bony, shaking hands.

"Oh it's not, huh?" Theo retorted angrily, "I'm thinking I should start tossing my earnings into the Thames instead. Might as well for all the good this is doing."

"Look, lad," Samuel said quietly, "Thank you. No matter what I say, I'm grateful for what you've been-"

Theo waved a hand in dismissal and interrupted Samuel, "What do you know about these Rooks you mentioned?"

"You don't know?" Samuel's eyes grew bright, "Their name's been on the lips o' every Blighter in the city this morning. There were skirmishes on the streets all over the place last night."

"I bet," Theo muttered, turning away from the old man. Their little exchange was going to make him late.

"Thanks again, lad!" the beggar shouted and hobbled away down the street.

Theo ignored him and entered the Wolfshead. On his way to the third floor, Foreman Jackson met him at the top of the first flight of stairs.

"Good morning," Theo nodded at his employer.

"Blackwood," Jackson nodded in return. A man in his early fifties, he stood immaculate in his black top hat and white overcoat. Despite Theo's relatively high rank for a Blighter, Jackson was bound tightly within the ranks of the Templars that pulled the Blighter's strings. As such, he not only gave Theo orders, he was also responsible for the younger man's wages. "I'm going to need you to make a supply run after your lunch break," he added.

"Understood," Theo affirmed, "More barrels?"

"Barrels, yes, and also some supplies for the workers," Jackson stated begrudgingly.

"Wow," Theo's eyebrows shot up, "Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Jackson," Theo winced slightly, regretting his words. He wasn't exactly chummy with his boss, and he figured sooner or later he'd say something that would get himself fired… which wouldn't be such a terrible thing. He didn't much like working at the dreary brewery.

"Well there are only so many regulations I can sidestep," Jackson replied, seemingly unfazed, "Besides, some new shoes for the little mongrels might actually get them to pull their own weight," he complained, and Theo pressed his lips into a thin line, "Keep them in line. It's what I'm paying you for, after all."

"Yes, sir," Theo said quietly and proceeded to climb the steps all the way to the third floor.

Upon seeing him, the child laborers greeted Theo as though he were one of them, as per usual.

"Mr. Teddy!" the curly haired Leah shouted and waved at him.

"Good morning, Leah," Theo replied after a small sigh. He had developed a reputation among the child laborers at the Wolfshead- as he had among the Blighters apparently, if his sister was to be believed- for being a bit of a softie. Unlike the four other Blighters working at the brewery, who either treated the children with callous contempt, or ignored them completely, Theo often allowed the children small breaks and interacted with them when the Foreman was away or wasn't looking. All of which was strictly against protocol, of course.

The six children, three boys and three girls, had all become fast friends bound together as they were in their harsh lot in life, and Thomas- their self proclaimed leader- stopped what he was doing and jogged over to Theo and Leah.

"Teddy, give us a hand, yeah? This bastard is bloody heavy!" The red-headed boy huffed, his freckled cheeks pink from exertion. Unfortunately he'd left the smaller Elliot to struggle with the full beer barrel that they had been trying to move.

"Tommy, get your ass back here!" Elliot yelled as the barrel began to sway. If it crushed the boy's foot, Theo would never hear the end of it from the Foreman.

"For Christ's sake!" Theo rushed over to stabilize the barrel before moving it over to the storage room, "Remember what I showed you. You guys aren't following my instructions."

"Yeah, but our way's faster," Thomas protested.

"But is sure as hell isn't safe," Theo scolded him firmly.

"Yes _mother_ ," Thomas teased, which made Theo frown and Leah giggle.

"Yeah, go ahead and joke, but if you end up with broken bones, I won't be the one taking you to the infirmary," Theo grunted, "Now pay attention."

Theo proceeded to demonstrate, for what seemed like the third or fourth time this week, the proper way to transfer the full beer barrels onto the moving cart and over to the storage room. All the while, he couldn't help but think that this was some ploy by the children to get him to do the heavy work for them.

"There, you see?" he huffed as he caught his breath. The fact that the barrels outweighed some of these kids always crossed his mind.

"Excellent work, boy," Thomas grinned as he did his best impression of an adult's voice, "Keep it up an' I might just increase your wages by the end of the month." The rest of the children laughed, except for Owen, the towheaded little runt, who let out an enormous sneeze.

"Bless you, Owen!" The three girls shouted in unison.

"What's all that commotion, Mr. Blackwood?" the foreman called out from an unseen corner on the ground floor. The building was largely an open space, and if someone stood directly in the center of the ground floor, they could see much of the goings on in the second, and third floors. Thus any sounds, especially high pitched laughter from the children, tended to carry quite easily throughout the brewery.

"Nothing, sir," Theo shouted in reply while giving the children an angry look. It was definitely only a matter of time before he was fired.

The children went back to their routines as the morning dragged on, all except for Owen, who constantly had to stop and wipe his runny nose with his sleeves.

"Here," Theo reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a clean, white handkerchief, and handed it to the little boy.

"Thank you, Mr. Teddy," Owen's voice was tiny and often difficult to hear, and he sounded like a drowning duckling as he blew into the handkerchief.

"No, Owen. That's yours now," Theo took a step back, shook his head, and grimaced when the boy tried to give the now slimy handkerchief back to him. Owen stood there, perplexed for a moment, before producing a tiny smile and placed the handkerchief into his pant pocket.

Come lunch time, Theo distributed a small bowl of soup to each of the children, which they all gobbled down in little time. The weather had improved slightly. It was no longer chilly, and small patches of blue sky could be seen here and there amidst the clouds. Thomas pulled out a little ball that he had snuck into the brewery that morning and bounced it to Elliot, which was most definitely against protocol.

"Hey, you know better than that," Theo admonished them.

"Come on now, bloke. Play with us," Thomas replied, catching the ball when Elliot bounced it back.

"Absolutely not," Theo warned, "Put it away, now, or Foreman Jackson hears about it."

The children all went wide-eyed, except for Thomas.

"You wouldn't," the ginger boy stated plainly.

"Oh?" Theo cocked an eyebrow, and without another word, he stood up and started down the flight of stairs, causing Thomas to go pale and the rest of the children to gasp and make small, worried noises. Halfway down, he turned and looked up at them with a smirk, "I'm stepping out for a couple of hours. Behave yourselves and there might be some new shoes in it for you."

~Jacob~

"Am I speaking too quickly for you?" Clara O'Dea asked, her pigtails swaying in the breeze.

"Oh, yes. _Do_ slow down, Mam," Jacob retorted, giving the girl an ugly look.

"We'll do whatever we can to help the children of this city," Evie promised.

"Much obliged," Clara exclaimed, "There are a few places you can start: the Radclyffe Mill, Spindles and Looms, and the Wolfshead Brewing Company, just to name a few."

"We'll get right on that, Your Highness," Jacob called out to the child as he and Evie left the alley where she and a group of other children were having their 'meetings.'

The twin assassins had been gathering all sorts of contacts like Clara throughout the city, and more and more former Clinkers flocked under their banner. Their green and yellow garb could be seen sporadically in several different boroughs, and even now as they headed toward Sergeant Abberline's office, Jacob greeted a group of three Rooks who were strolling proudly down the street in a way that wasn't possible when they were still Clinkers.

Jacob couldn't have been any more pleased. He simply had to glance at Evie and flash a lopsided grin that said he had 'won.' The Rooks were a thing now, no matter how his sister or Henry felt about it.

Evie betrayed nothing as they walked. She could see her brother's blinding smile out of the corner of her eye perfectly well, but to pay him any heed at that moment meant running the risk of his inflated head not fitting through the police station's doorway. Couldn't have that now.

Truth be told, she wasn't even against the concept of the Rooks in theory. It was just that the idea of her manchild brother running amok through the streets with a horde of minions following his every whim tended to give her a small headache if she thought about it too much.

"Freddy! How goes it?" Jacob beamed once he spotted Abberline's profuse muttonchops amidst the rest of the policemen in the station's entrance.

" _Sergeant_. _Abberline_." Frederick corrected him wearily and futilely as several other officers stared, "Step into my office."

With the twins inside, Abberline closed the door to his office, motioned for them to sit, and took his own seat behind his desk.

"I have information that might interest you regarding Lucy Thorne," he stated evenly.

"Excellent," Evie replied, "We saw her just last night having a meeting of sorts. It would _seem_ that tailing her would have been the optimal course of action."

Jacob gave her a sideways glance.

"I had contacts in the area where she retired during the wee hours of the morning. There was the briefest exchange between herself and one of her Templar escorts," Abberline continued, "Apparently Miss Thorne is after something other than the Shroud."

"What, another artifact?" Evie asked intently.

"I have no further details other than a name. But it does seem likely. What else could be as important to her as the Shroud besides another artifact?" Abberline's question was more rhetorical than anything else, and he removed his jacket.

"And what of this name?" Evie inquired.

"Blackwood. A surname, obviously. Apparently this 'Blackwood' is to search for whatever it is that Thorne is looking for. But I have no description or any other information on this individual to speak of," As Abberline adjusted his tie, he paused to stare at Jacob whose eyes had been wandering non-stop from corner to corner of the office since Abberline and Evie had started speaking, "Has something caught your interest, Mr. Frye?"

"Hmm? Oh, don't mind me, Freddy. Just checking to see if you had a special place where you kept all your disguises," Jacob mused.

Abberline exhaled loudly through his nose while shaking his head, eyes closed.

"Miss Frye, my admiration for your patience and tolerance grows more and more by the day," he remarked.

Jacob furrowed his brow.

"I've had twenty years to develop such talents," There was a knowing glint in Evie's eyes as she said it, and she tried her best to keep from laughing.

"Huh?" Jacob's gaze bounced back and forth between them, "Where's my compliment, Freddy?"

Both Abberline and Evie started chuckling, and the Sergeant rose from his seat to show the twins out.

"Oh, I see. You both are having a jest at my expense, aren't you?"

"No," Abberline replied evenly.

"Never," Evie agreed.

"Oh, one more thing before you go," Abberline added, "There's been heavy Blighter activity all morning around a warehouse two blocks to the Southeast. They may be up to something, or they may not."

"Finally, some action after all this flapping of gums," Jacob smiled at Evie, "Let's go say hello."

"No Jacob, I-"

"Oh, that's right. I forgot," Jacob interrupted her as he ran outside and signalled at a passing Rook to join him, "You have a lunch date with Greenie!"

~Theo~

Clobber was waiting for him with a growler carriage when Theo stepped outside of the Wolfshead.

"So you're my transport, eh?" Theo smiled as he hopped up into the front next to his burly friend.

"None other," Clobber remarked cheerily in his baritone voice. He had neglected to shave this morning, and Theo liked the way the man's stubble defined his large, broad jaw, "So where's my jacket?" he joked.

"Oh, about that…" Theo stammered.

"Don't worry about it, brother," Clobber chuckled, urging the horse to a swift clip through the streets, "How was the rest of your night?"

"Oh you know- I nearly drowned in the rain, some goons jumped me outside my apartment, a three-headed, fire-breathing Lucy Thorne haunted my dreams…. but other than that, it was fine," Theo replied brusquely.

"Wait. _What_?" Clobber started to pull the growler over, but Theo urged him to keep driving, "You were _jumped_? By who? Rooks? Are you alright?"

"It was nothing...," as he said it, Theo vividly recalled the woman's corpse staring at him blankly as she sank beneath the mud, "I'm fine. And yeah, they were...Rooks. I keep wanting to say 'Clinkers', but they're the 'Rooks' now apparently."

Clobber sat in silence for a moment as Theo fiddled with his bowler cap.

"So you've heard about their new identity too," Theo piped up once they were nearly at the supply cargo pickup site.

"Everyone has. There were fights breaking out across three boroughs last night after I dropped you off. It's all anyone's been talking about this morning," Clobber replied, affirming what Samuel had told Theo, "Shit, I should have driven you all the way to your front door like I was going to."

"That was my call. Don't blame yourself," Theo stated, "And anyway, you know who leads them? A Jacob and Evie Frye," The traffic was getting heavier, so Clobber kept his eyes on the road, but Theo could tell the other man was listening to him intently, "And get this- I saw this Jacob guy last night in the ring during the fighting match. Pretty sure the girl he was with was Evie, too."

"No shit?" Clobber asked, eyes still on the road.

"No shit. And to think I could've knocked his lights out last night if you hadn't gone and interrupted the whole thing," Theo chuckled and punched his friend lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, I was just following orders!" Clobber protested with a smile.

"I wonder if Thorne knows about Jacob and Evie. It didn't sound like she did based on what she said last night. Someone should tell her if she doesn't," Theo thumbed the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

"About Thorne..." Clobber piped up, "Did you open that letter she gave you?"

"Huh? Oh… yeah. I did..." Theo trailed off without continuing.

"What did it say?"

"You really want to know, don't you?"

"I'm curious, I'll admit," Clobber smiled, but Theo could see that there was a worried look in his eyes.

"She scares me too, you know," Theo offered quietly, and Clobber nodded his head slowly, "There was a map inside the letter. She… wants me to find something for her and the map indicates where I should start looking… but I really shouldn't talk about it, Clobbs. She insisted I keep this quiet."

"I understand," the larger man told him, "But if you're in over your head and feel like you need help… Let me know, okay?"

Theo nodded slowly, grateful for Clobber's offer of support.

They reached the warehouse and hopped out of the growler. And wonder of wonders, the sun was starting to burn through the clouds.

"So what are we bringing back?" Clobber asked as Theo identified his cargo load among a myriad of others that were destined for various locations of Blighter operations all over the city.

"Supplies for the brewery, mostly, but Jackson assured me there were also some new work clothes and shoes for the kids," Theo explained with a smile.

"Oh...really?"

A rapid volley of gunfire interrupted Clobber's train of thought, and the two of them ducked behind their supply cart. The horses whinnied in a panic at the sounds, and Theo looked about quickly while pulling out his Derringer.

"Rooks!" he heard several of his fellows shout as they scrambled to locate the enemy and assemble a defense.

"Damn it all!" Theo cursed as he spotted roughly ten Rooks, all armed with pistols, fanning out to surround the warehouse. He took a quick shot before ducking back behind the supply cart, but missed his target.

There was return fire, and all hell broke loose. Screams began ringing out around them as Blighters and Rooks engaged in open combat. Theo fired his Derringer again as he abandoned cover, hitting a Rook square in the chest and dropping him instantly. He pulled out his knife and rushed behind another Rook busily engaging a Blighter, shoving the knife into the small of the Rook's back.

"The cargo! They're hijacking the cargo!" a Blighter screamed.

"Fuck!" Theo hissed, circling quickly to see a Rook clamor hastily behind the reigns of his supply cart. Theo opened fire, striking the Rook in his right shoulder just as the man had urged the cart's horses to move. Without thinking, Theo rushed the cart and managed to jump onto the side of it as it charged out into the street.

He turned his head quickly to catch a glimpse of the chaos enfolding around him as three other hijacked carts tore off in the opposite direction. The lifeless bodies of both Blighters and Rooks colored the pavement outside the warehouse red and green.

And then there was Clobber, getting smaller and smaller as he stood in the middle of the street, watching helplessly as Theo sped off.

"Just wait till I get to you, you bastard," Theo growled under his breath as he shimmied along the side of the rapidly moving cart. The injured Rook knew he was hanging on, because the man kept forcing the horses to make turns that were way too tight in an attempt to knock him off. Theo gripped one of the thick straps that secured the cargo as tightly as he could to keep from falling, which was challenging since he still had his Derringer in his right hand. He was halfway between the front and back wheels of the cart, and knowing his luck, an arm or leg would be crushed beneath the back wheel if he were to fall, nevermind his skin peeling off nicely as he slid and bounced along the street.

Theo shoved that pleasant thought aside and managed to hoist himself onto the top of the cart, lying flat on his stomach as he crawled toward the Rook. Said Rook turned to shoot at him, but the speed at which he was driving and the unevenness of the the street caused his shot to be wildly off mark, and he turned back around to avoid oncoming traffic since he had drifted into the wrong lane.

Theo had to put an end to this soon or else he and the cart would be dashed to pieces. He let go of his Derringer and it flew off the cart, glimmering in the sunlight as it ricocheted along the street behind him. He couldn't shoot the Rook anyway, not without risking a crash at any rate. With his right hand free, Theo grabbed a fistfull of the Rook's hair and tugged, yanking the man's head back. The Rook panicked and tried to pull away from him, giving Theo enough leverage to hoist himself even closer to him. Theo wrapped his left hand around the Rook's neck, followed suit with his right hand, and proceeded to squeeze, blocking the man's windpipe.

"Stop the cart!" He screamed, applying even more pressure around the Rook's neck. The man continued to panic, momentarily letting go of the reigns completely to try and pry Theo's hands away.

"Stop the fucking cart or you'll never breath again!" Theo roared, and to his relief, the Rook slowed the horses to a trot. He kept squeezing until the Rook passed out then shoved him out of the cart. Theo scrambled into the driver's seat, took a moment to get his bearings straight, and then urged the weary horses in the direction of the Wolfshead. He'd be damned if, after all this, he didn't make it back with the supplies.

But Theo didn't get very far before he heard a loud thud accompanied simultaneously by a violent shaking of the entire cart. The horses whined, and as Theo turned his head, he could feel his entire body going cold. Perched on top of the cart was a young man in a newsboy cap, fierce determination radiating from his all too familiar face.

Freaking Jacob Frye.

There was very little that Theo could do as Jacob grabbed him by the arm. He pulled away from Jacob to try and cause him to lose balance, but it didn't work. Theo was exhausted and had very little strength left in his arms due to how tightly he had been gripping the side of the cart.

"Damn you," he managed to utter as he put up what little fight he had left in him, but Jacob punched him squarely in the cheek and Theo was done. His head spinning from the blow, he lost his grip on the reigns.

"No hard feelings, mate," Jacob assured him in a low, silky voice, "And don't worry, we'll be sure to put this stuff to good use."

And with that, the leader of the Rooks pushed Theo out of the moving cart. Although it was moving at a slower pace than it had been with the first Rook behind the reigns, Theo still landed on street with a thud that knocked all the air out of his lungs and sent a bolt of pain through the back of his skull. He rolled several times before coming to a stop, and before his mind could fully process what had happened, Theo was up and sprinting madly after Jacob and the supply cart that had clothes and shoes for Thomas, Leah, Elliot, Owen, and the others.

He only made it ten paces before a wave of dizziness kept his legs from working and he collapsed in a heap on the side of the road.


	3. Chapter 3

~Jacob~

"Hey, tiny! What's the good word?" Jacob called out to one of his 'little Rooks.' Lately, more and more orphans and child laborers were flocking to the Rooks, lending their aid in the form of information and whatever goods they could get their small hands on.

"Well the Blighters are hoppin' mad over what you and your boys did earlier today with their cargo!" the child whispered rather loudly and enthusiastically.

"No! And here I thought they'd be just _delighted_ ," Jacob smiled.

"A bunch a' them that were at the warehouse will be out on the town tonight causing a ruckus, I hear," the boy added.

"Oh? Well then perhaps some of them would enjoy a bit of company," Jacob mused, "And smalley," the assassin added, "keep your head down. No need to go looking for trouble... at least wait till you're shoulder height."

"Yes, gov'na!" the boy nodded and ran off.

Jacob continued his walk down London's streets, taking in the sights. It had not been long since he and his sister had moved in from Crawley. Although his adrenaline was still running high from the cargo hijacking that he had spontaneously orchestrated just a couple of hours earlier, he couldn't quite shake off the growing feeling of loneliness that had begun to sink in since his move to the city.

He and Evie were squabbling more and more about the direction they should take in regards to London's Templar threat. She was borderline obsessed, Jacob thought, with finding the Shroud of Eden in an attempt to remove the Templar's greatest tool and source of threatening power from their grasp. Jacob, meanwhile, was more inclined to dismantle the Templars from the ground up, which meant ridding the city of their Blighters.

Jacob was sure his way was the better course of action- certainly the more fun course of action at any rate- but as he noticed an abandoned book on the ground, covered in dirt with plucked flowers sticking out from between the pages, he couldn't help but think of his sister and how the two of them were spending less and less time together. Their disagreements were slowly chipping away at the bond they shared as twins.

Jacob reached down and picked up the book.

"Wasn't Greenie going on about flowers the other day?…" the assassin said to himself under his breath. Henry Green had been spending more time with Evie than Jacob had as of late, and was even accompanying his sister on the field in search for clues of the Shroud's whereabouts. Although Jacob tended to tease Evie quite a bit over Henry's bumbling attempts to court her, if Henry made Evie happy, then that's all that really mattered to Jacob.

Jacob placed the dirty little book into his pocket with a small smile. Henry was collecting flowers for Evie, that much was clear, and the awkward guy would certainly need all the help he could get if he wanted to win Evie over.

The assassin noticed a small group of Rooks laughing among themselves on a street corner, their spirits still high from recent successes over the Blighters, and he jogged over to join them. To deal with the slight loneliness, Jacob had taken to spending time with his new Rook recruits.

"Jacob!" several of the Rooks called out at the assassin's approach. The general consensus among the Rooks in regards to Jacob was that of great approval. They loved that one of their leaders was 'one of the guys' who was not above spending time with his subordinates. In contrast, to the average Rook, their other leader, Evie, was more akin to a force of nature- an aloof and deadly shadow.

"Hey, fellows!" Jacob beamed at the group of young men and tipped his newsboy cap. They all greeted him in kind, "What say we go out on the town tonight? Raise a glass or two for our victory, and for the boys we lost today."

In total, four Blighter supply carts had been successfully hijacked earlier in the afternoon, which meant sizeable amounts of leather, cloth, metal, and various other raw materials could now be put to use by the Rooks. They'd overpower and eventually overthrow the Blighters one day, Jacob knew. It was only a matter of time. There was a cost to these victories, however, and spending time with his Rooks meant losing friendly faces- and three of his men had died for the cause that day.

"Sounds great!" One of the Rooks responded, and the rest nodded their heads in agreement. The Rooks had several carriages in their possession, and together, the group of five plus Jacob boarded one and made their way to one of the more popular pubs in the borough.

Jacob cringed slightly as they blew past a police carriage. He wasn't the one driving, but they were going way too fast, and Freddy would most certainly not approve, Jacob thought to himself. A smile formed on his lips as he thought about that. Exasperating Sergeant Abberline was quickly becoming a past time for the assassin.

They rounded a corner and disappeared down a side street before an officer in the carriage could finish his warning shout.

"Hey, pull over for a second," Jacob ordered once it looked like the cops weren't following them. He had spotted another group of Rooks, and there were two in particular among them that he needed to talk to. As the group in the carriage waited more than a little impatiently for Jacob to return, the assassin spoke quietly to a large man and a tiny woman who were notably the only two in the group not wearing the familiar Rook colors of green and yellow.

"What kept you, Jacob?" one of the gang members asked when the assassin hopped back into the carriage.

"Somebody's got to keep working while we go out and play," Jacob grinned in response. They all cheered as they tore down the street for a night of drinks at the pub.

~Theo~

Bruised, scraped up, and with an aching head, Theo made his way back to the Wolfshead Brewing Co. only a few hours before closing time. He reported the hijacking of the brewery's supply cart to the foreman, who was incensed by the news.

"These blasted Rooks need to be dealt with," Foreman Jackson spat as he removed his top hat and scratched his head furiously, "this will set back our productivity for the rest of the week, damn it! We needed those barrels, Blackwood!"

"I know, sir," Theo mumbled, still a bit too shaken up, sore, and exhausted to be furious about what had transpired. He was still feeling dizzy, the skin below his left eye was bruised from Jacob's punch, and the right side of his face from temple to jaw was scraped from road rash and bleeding slightly.

"Just go. I'm not paying you for the rest of the day," the foreman barked sharply before turning away from Theo. The older man summoned the other Blighter workers and began issuing orders.

Theo sighed, his anger slowly rising as he climbed the stairs to the third floor to gather his things. The children were waiting for him, and had listened to the exchanged that had taken place on the ground floor. They all watched in silence broken only by Owen blowing his nose as Theo ignored them all. He didn't have the energy to deal with them at this point, and he was as pissed off at himself and his inability to handle the hijacking as he was with the hijacking itself.

"Rooks, eh?" Thomas piped up when Theo had begun his descent back to the ground floor. He continued when Theo merely grunted without looking at him, "I've seen them blokes around."

"Yeah, well they're trouble," Theo replied tersely, pointing to his bruised face, "Best keep away from them, the lot of you…. Wait, what the hell happened to you, Thomas?" Theo frowned upon seeing that his face wasn't the only one that was worse for wear. There was a small cut on the side of the boy's mouth, and his entire left cheek was bright pink.

Thomas said nothing. He merely huffed and crossed his arms as an indignant look formed on his face.

"He mouthed off once you was gone," Elliot piped up, to Thomas's annoyance, "Mr. Morrison didn't take too kindly to it, neither."

Theo looked over at Morrison, a grizzled man nearly as big as his friend Clobber, who was currently speaking with Foreman Jackson. Like Theo, Morrison's job was to keep the brewery's workers in line, but Morrison had a temper, and did not put up with insubordination lightly- not from the adult workers, and not from the children.

Theo ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, only then realising that he had lost his bowler cap at some point while he was hanging onto the side of the supply cart, "What did I tell you about behaving yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah _mum_ ," Thomas grumbled and spat on the floor, "You say them Rooks is trouble. Well they can't be any more trouble than you _Blighters_."

Theo frowned and his eyes moved slowly from one young face to the other, their eyes still bright and hopeful despite their lot in life. But Theo could think of nothing to say in response to Thomas's accusation. He turned and walked down the stairs.

He then quickly departed, ignoring the stares of the workers and other Blighters on his way out, and grateful that the children hadn't asked about the shoes he said he'd bring back to them.

"Feel better, Mr. Teddy," Owen called out quietly before burying his face in the handkerchief Theo had given him, and proceeded to erupt into a sneezing fit.

Theo collapsed into his bed as soon as he got to his apartment. Although he was asleep within moments of lying down, he woke up a mere two hours later to sharp pains radiating from the back of his head. The sun was barely above the horizon by this point, so he peeled off his sweaty, dusty Blighter uniform, turned on his oil lamp, and stumbled into his washroom.

After cleaning his scrapes and taking tally of his myriad of bruises, he decided to take a closer look at the map of London's underground that Thorne had provided him.

'Be attentive to any manner of odd or seemingly out of place etchings or symbols…" Theo read absently.

He'd have to start searching soon, and with the night still very young, Theo decided that now was as good a time as any. He'd likely be too sore in the morning to do much of anything, and his current headache was preventing him from further rest. At least the dizziness had subsided, only to be replaced by a grumbling stomach.

Theo had no food in his lodgings, so his wanderings about in the dark- both literally and figuratively- for whatever he was supposed to be searching for would have to wait until he grabbed a bite to eat.

He was in no mood and no shape for trouble tonight, and besides, he would need to walk about unnoticed soon enough, so Theo did not put on a fresh red Blighter jacket. He instead opted for a dark brown one over a white undershirt. With any luck, he'd go unrecognized by any Rooks, and perhaps even by many of his own fellow Blighters. He also put on a pair of gloves, which he'd certainly be needing tonight.

He passed by a mirror on his way out the door, and slicked his dark hair back with a comb. His stubble was still neat enough to not require a shave, but it was a shame he couldn't do anything about his black eye.

As evening enveloped the sky, bringing with it a distinct chill, Theo walked briskly through the streets toward his favorite pub. Foot and road traffic was fairly high, and plenty of people were walking the same general direction he was, but despite this, he couldn't shake the eerie feeling of being deliberately followed. There were no suspicious figures among the rabble that he could see whenever he snuck a glance over his shoulder- certainly no one wearing green at any rate. Yet still, that feeling of being watched and slowly pursued persisted until Theo stepped out of the murky streets and into the familiar glow of the pub.

He noticed a group of Blighters in the back corner drinking and conversing quietly among themselves. Theo could tell by their body language that they were more than a bit on edge, and he quickly slipped unnoticed into a side booth in the opposite corner of the room. He just wanted to eat and drink in peace without having to discuss the damn Rooks, at least for the rest of the night.

No sooner had he ordered a biscuit and a bottle of beer when a small cadre of Rooks sauntered into the establishment as though they were its owners- with a smiling Jacob Frye front and center. Theo sat there, mouth slightly agape, unsure how to feel about running into this man yet again.

Jacob and his boys noisily plopped down at a round table in the center of the room and immediately called a waiter over to order their first round of drinks. Theo shook his head slightly as he shot a glance at the Blighters in the back corner who were all but gnashing their teeth at the sight of the brazen newcomers. This was going to devolve very quickly, and Theo wasn't sure if he should make for the door now, or sit back and watch the show.

He took a mouthful of the biscuit and a swig of his beer. The reality of the situation was that if he was recognized and word got out that he'd witnessed an altercation without helping his fellow Blighters, his sister Nora would be first in line to liberate Theo from his entrails. He rubbed his weary eyes and took a bigger swig from the bottle. At least he'd had the mind to not wear his Blighter colors this evening. It was then that Jacob spotted him and smiled, which threw Theo off guard and sent his pulse hammering into his ears.

 _Damn it all._

Theo nearly lost the fight with his knee-jerk reaction to look away, and managed to stare back at Jacob with an impressive poker face that betrayed no hint of weakness- no hint of the nervousness that was starting to creep its way up Theo's spine.

This guy had beaten him senseless and tossed him out of a moving vehicle like a ragdoll not seven hours ago, and yet the feeling that was sweeping over Theo at that moment wasn't the rage that he was expecting.

 _What was it instead?_

His bruised eye twitched as he tried to process what the hell was going on with him.

Suddenly, one of the Rooks turned to face the group of Blighters in the back corner and, clearly egged on by his fellows, he flipped them off. Angry muttering and a sharp threat from one of the Blighters signalled to Theo that it was time to leave. Screw it. He wasn't going to get sucked into a pub brawl. He didn't have the energy for it and he hadn't yet procured a replacement firearm. Besides, this wasn't how he envisioned his chance at getting back at Jacob.

Theo scarfed down the rest of his biscuit and slipped into a group of panicking patrons who clearly shared his intentions to make a break for the door. Several of the Rooks and Blighters had now gotten out of their chairs and were hurling insults at one another, to the horrified dismay of the pub's owner.

He had successfully made it out into the street when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. Theo whirled around quickly while taking a leap back, pulling out his knife as he put distance between himself and the threatening figure.

"Well hello, hello," Jacob said in a decidedly _un_ threatening and rather lighthearted voice as he fiddled with his newsboy cap.

And there was that cheeky grin again.

Theo stood there, still in a protective stance with his knife held out in front of him, and beer bottle clenched in the other hand, his face stony with tension. He quickly noticed that Jacob was at least three inches shorter than him, but was proportionately just as well-muscled. If nothing else, Theo's longer arms would provide him with better reach if a scrap broke out between them- unless Jacob was armed, which he most likely was- in which case Theo was as good as done for.

Annoying little pinpricks were spreading across the skin of his forehead and the back of his neck as he simultaneously weighed his defensive options and marvelled at how handsome Jacob looked under the glow of the street lamp next to them. It was the first time he'd gotten a really good look at the other man up close.

That second thought had Theo growling aloud in frustration at himself. It was ridiculous for him to be thinking about such things at a time like this.

"It's alright, mate," Jacob continued in the same friendly tone, interpreting Theo's growl as a threat to back off, "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?" Theo mumbled the word more than anything else, and a dumbfounded look spread across his face before he could control it. He stared intently into Jacob's eyes as he regained his composure. He had to remind himself of how crafty Jacob had proven to be in the fighting ring. This could very well be a trick to get him to lower his guard.

More shouts erupted from within the pub. It would only be a few moments before the fighting started.

"Well, yes," the smile never left Jacob's lips as he spoke, "We may have gotten off to a poor start, you and I. You remember me right? I cleaned your clock earlier."

"How could I _possibly_ forget?" There was far less bite and far more deadpan in Theo's response than he would have liked as he pointed at his conspicuous black eye. Jacob's subsequent chuckling was rather fetching to Theo's ears. He could feel the corners of his own mouth pulling up into a smile in response to the sound, which he only barely managed to subdue, but not before Jacob had noticed it, "What is it you want, exactly?" This time, there was more of an irritated edge in Theo's voice.

"I've watched you out there today, and I won't lie, I like what I see," Jacob's tone and playful smile sent a rush of color up Theo's neck and into his cheeks. A complement was the last thing he was expecting from the guy.

 _And was that a flirt?,_ his mind demanded. It couldn't have been. Jacob _had_ to have been messing with him. In a second Jacob would whip out a blade and run him through.

"So I'm offering you a place among the Rooks."

Theo would have to sit and ponder the ridiculousness of this situation at a later date, assuming he made it through the next few moments alive. Here he was face to face with the Rook ringleader. He should be attacking Jacob, or making an escape to inform Thorne, or _anything_ other than standing there all red-faced and flustered, and staring dumbly at the guy. In fact, Theo quickly realized that his inaction might even be giving Jacob the impression that he was entertaining the idea of taking the guy up on his offer.

"Absolutely not," Theo managed to grunt as he braced himself for the attack that was likely coming. That was, after all, the wrong answer to Jacob's question, but as a Blighter it was oh so very right.

But no attack came, not from Jacob at least. The same could not be said for the Rooks and Blighters in the pub as shattered glass and pained screams began piercing the night air.

There was only a small disappointed frown on Jacob's face.

"Lots of your fellows are starting to join us, you know," Jacob replied matter-of-factly, which made Theo frown as well, albeit much more deeply. If true, then this spelled disaster for the Blighters' future. Theo should have said something defiant, but honestly what was the point of acting like a tough guy when he was so clearly not in fighting shape?

"That doesn't surprise me," Theo finally replied, then ventured, "I'm sure you can be very persuasive."

The smile found its way back onto Jacob's lips, and once again Theo was at a loss. He certainly hadn't expected the leader of the Rooks to be anything less than cold and ruthless- the way Thorne, his sister Nora, or any of the Blighter leaders were.

Jacob was a strange, lively, and rather charming young man… and yet he had no qualms about hijacking cargo that contained shoes and clothing for the kids at the brewery. Theo held on to that last thought- despite the fact that Jacob would have had no idea that the cart contained those items- because it made Theo experience a twinge of anger. He'd have to hold on to that anger because being angry at Jacob was better than whatever the hell else he was feeling right now.

A round of gunshots quickly ended the moment between the two men.

"Well, I hope you change your mind," Jacob shouted and darted back toward the pub's door, "Now, if you'll excuse me," He flashed Theo an incredible smile, tipped his newsboy cap, and ran enthusiastically back into the chaotic pub.

Theo wiped his brow and watched Jacob go, and as he let out a deep sigh, he realized just how tense he had been during their exchange. He guzzled down the rest of his beer, tossed the bottle aside, and broke into a jog away from the pub. He could hear terrified Blighters fleeing out of the tavern behind him, thanks in no small part to Jacob, so he had to put some distance between them lest they notice him.

He spotted an unmanned carriage and quickly slipped behind the reigns, taking off at a brisk trot down the street. Pushing Jacob to the back of his mind, Theo pulled out the folded map that Lucy Thorne had given him and studied it as he drove through the yawning darkness, adjusting course based on where he figured he should begin his search.

Once satisfied, Theo took the small lantern hanging from the driver's side of the carriage, abandoned the vehicle, and continued on foot, pulling up the hood of his jacket over his head. Clouds had rolled in over the last hour, and the ever-widening spaces between the dim street lamps became dense, shrouded pockets of gloom. Here and there he could pick out a handful of scattered silhouettes several hundred paces from where he stood, but he was otherwise alone at the edge of a construction site.

With the lantern in hand, Theo again checked his map then slid cautiously down the slope of a gravel pit and into the gaping darkness of a sewer tunnel. He was certain that no one had seen him enter, and yet he dimmed the lantern as much as possible, leaving himself with just enough of a glow to cut away at the smothering darkness.

The air grew increasingly dense, moist, and foul with every step, and the quiet splash from the trickle of sewage water at his feet became more of a sickening squelch the further he ventured into the abyss.

The most unsettling thing however was the reverberation bouncing off the walls of the tunnel from deeper within. It was a low-pitched, almost pulsating din that elicited a growing sense of dread within him.

Theo exhaled to steel himself onward, and the sharp hiss of his breath echoed around him as well. To think, he could have taken Jacob up on his offer and joined the Rooks… perhaps he could've been wherever Jacob was right now. That would have been leagues more preferable than this eerie place. But could it really be that easy? Could he simply turn away from his life as a Blighter and walk the streets as Rook?

He shook his head slightly as he pressed onward. It wasn't possible. He'd sworn the Blighter owth. He had more loyalty than those spineless traitors who were defecting to Jacob's side. Once again that face flashed in his mind's eye, and Theo could feel the color rising up his neck. Jacob was handsome, that much was as apparent to Theo as grass being green. And while a handsome face would always pique his interest, it wasn't generally enough to get his heart racing or his face helplessly red.

There was some sort of energy about Jacob that threw Theo off balance. There had to be. It made it difficult for him to even concentrate. It was an annoying feeling, and a dangerous one at that. What would have happened if Jacob had decided to stop messing around with him and attacked him like he should have? Why had Jacob approached him like that? And he'd been awfully friendly too.

The tunnel opened up before him and dropped away into a deep chamber filled with a vile moat of water and human waste. Three branching tunnels stretched out ahead of him on the other side, connected only by narrow- and by all appearances unstable- wooden beams to keep him from falling into the filth. The mere thought of that sent Theo's stomach turning.

He couldn't simply make his way straight ahead across one of the wooden beams and into the tunnel on the opposite side. That would have been too easy. No, according to his map, he would have to jump onto another beam mid-way in order to reach the tunnel that branched off to the right.

Theo rubbed his brow then attached the lantern to his belt. He proceeded cautiously onto the wooden beam, which wasn't even wide enough for him to place both feet together side by side. He winced as he wobbled slightly, but his balance held. If he fell into that muck he was done. Thorne could kiss his ass, _kick_ his ass, flay him alive, do whatever she pleased with him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to make swimming in excrement his new pastime.

And now it was time for the jump. There was a roughly six foot gap between the beam on which he now crouched and the beam to which he needed to reach. Theo was fit and agile enough to make the jump, but the other beam was just as thin as the one he was on, and his forward momentum would likely not allow him to land nicely without toppling over.

He instead opted to jump short, reaching out with his hands to grasp the beam and pull himself onto it. He winced again when the beam shuddered beneath his weight, but he managed the rest of the way without falling.

 _Something has to go well tonight,_ Theo thought to himself. He proceeded along the new tunnel, swearing to himself every time it branched off into multiple dark pathways and hoped he'd be able to make his way back out. He came to a stop once he caught a glimpse of something scrawled on the wall of the tunnel near his feet. It was tiny, and had to have been scratched onto the surface with some sort of fine tool. Had he not been informed to look out for some sort of symbol, he'd have missed it entirely.

It was a circle with three dots arranged in a triangle within it. It was simple enough to remember, but he'd have to write it down once he made his way back to his apartment. Theo bent down, pulled out his knife, and began scraping away at the symbol until there was nothing left to see but scratch marks on the tunnel's wall. He then reached for a handful of sewer muck at his feet, suddenly very grateful for the gloves he'd put on- he'd have to burn them later since there was no way he'd be ever be putting them on again- and rubbed the filth on the scratch marks to make them less conspicuous. Thorne hadn't ordered him to cover his tracks or destroy clues. Theo was simply doing so because he felt like he had to.

It was then that he heard the hollow clacking of slow footsteps in the distance behind him. Theo froze and shut the lantern off. His heart hammered in his ears as the darkness swallowed him up. Evidently the feeling of being followed all night wasn't just paranoia on his part.

Groping around in the total darkness with his free hand, Theo made his way as quietly as he could into a different side tunnel and waited. The footsteps had stopped, and he wondered if he'd just imagined it as a minute went by without any further sound other than dripping water and that throbbing hum from deeper within the tunnel.

But then they started up again, and sweat began to trickle down Theo's forehead as the footsteps grew louder and louder with each passing moment.

~Jacob~

Jacob pulled out his kukri and went to work, slashing the blade across the back of the nearest Blighter and shoving the man to the ground with a forceful kick. It was as though a tornado had materialized within the pub, with bottles, chairs, and tables being hurled through the air.

The assassin rushed forward and slid across the floor, dodging below the knife thrust of a second Blighter to trip a third one who was about to end the life of one of the Rooks. When the Blighter came crashing to the floor, Jacob shoved his hidden blade down and into the man's throat.

He then let his kukri fly, and it gleamed like silver as it windmilled across the room to bury itself into the chest of a third Blighter.

While the remaining, wounded Blighters hobbled out into the street screaming, they were quickly replaced by a new batch of eight who came rushing into the pub.

"Looks like we'll be getting our second round after all, boys!" Jacob shouted with a boyish enthusiasm that encouraged his Rooks to press on. They had not yet lost a single man, and they gathered around Jacob in a defensive line.

The Blighters followed suit, lining up as both sides prepared to fire a volley of bullets. The simultaneous gunshots seemed to shake the entire establishment. More beer bottles exploded around them from missed shots, but several Rooks and Blighters slumped to the floor from shots that had connected.

The pub's owner and bartender were on their knees behind the counter, hyperventilating as the chaos unfolded before them.

As exhilarating as this was for Jacob, he needed to end things quickly before they got out of hand.

 _Well, any more out of hand._ He grinned.

Jacob became a blur of unbridled motion, letting loose a barrage of throwing knives that wedged themselves into the necks and eye sockets of his foes. The accompanying screams sent his adrenaline spiking as he skewered body after body with his hidden blade.

The Blighters not directly in the path of the Jacob-shaped battering ram spilled around the assassin and began engaging the rest of the Rooks. More gunshots were fired, resulting in more green garbed men dropping to the floor. In an instant, the tables had turned and the situation had grown very dire for the Rooks.

Jacob took a fraction of a second to glance over his shoulder to find only two of his boys remaining, and what appeared to be a random civilian, all of them surrounded by five Blighters.

"Damn it," Jacob grunted when a carriage full of even more Blighters pulled up outside the pub's entrance. They were certainly swarming the streets tonight. It dawned on Jacob that his earlier hijacking stunt may have been akin to hitting a wasp's nest with a stick. The Blighters were out for blood tonight.

The assassin threw a smoke bomb at the carriage. The explosion terrified the carriage's horses, and they bolted down the street, carrying away the vehicle along with the few Blighters who had not yet climbed out of it.

"Kill that bastard, Frye and bring me his head!" Jacob heard a booming voice shout from the fleeing carriage. It was presumably the driver, trying in vain to regain control of the panicked horses.

Jacob could see five or six shapes coughing as they struggled to wade through the smoke that was now being carried by the wind into the pub via the open door.

A Rook yelled behind him and Jacob had to make a choice. He could easily kill all of the Blighters still outside who were blinded by the smoke, but that meant letting the two remaining Rooks behind him die.

Jacob turned to help his fellow Rooks, but lost his footing in the slick pool of blood that had accumulated on the floor of the pub. He recovered before he could fall, but could not reach the Rooks in time to help them both. A Blighter had fired a bullet at point blank range, instantly ending one Rook's life, which left just a single Rook and an unfamiliar little man who had somehow gotten caught up in the fight.

This unknown man smashed a beer bottle into the back of a Blighter's head, stunning the Blighter long enough for the remaining Rook to kill him with a knife thrust. On his way to the back of the pub, Jacob wrenched his kukri from the dead Blighter he had thrown it at just moments before and tackled two more foes with both knife and hidden blade.

After getting slashed across the arm, the last Rook took down two Blighters with well-aimed gunshots. The smoke wafting in from the bomb was beginning to sting at Jacob's eyes, and he could hear the latest wave of Blighters rushing into the pub.

"Boys, I think we just might have overstayed our welcome," Jacob grimaced as he grabbed a chair and hurled it at the closest Blighter. It burst to pieces, knocking the Blighter out cold. He then grabbed another chair and threw it at a window, shattering the glass. He then ordered the last Rook and the little man to jump out. As they did so, Jacob stayed inside to unleash his anger at the remaining Blighters who were still partially incapacitated by the smoke.

"You alright, Wally? " Jacob managed to ask between heavy breaths after everything finally went still.

The lone surviving Rook, a red-headed man named Walter, nodded grimly.

"Just a scratch," he managed to say in a shaky voice and pointed to the shallow slash on his left arm.

"And you?" Jacob asked the stranger, who turned out to a wide-eyed teenager in a newsboy cap not unlike his own.

"Me? Oh, I'm f-fine!" the blond boy stammered excitedly, "That was one hell of a scrap, sir!"

"And who might you be?" Jacob asked. The boy's eyes grew even wider, and his grin was so broad it threatened to split his face in two. He seemed shocked that Jacob was even talking to him.

" _Christ_ , Bumble," Walter sighed, which made the boy blush, "Pull yourself together would you?... Although you did hold your own in there, I'll give you that much."

"You did, didn't you…" Jacob mused, "Bumble, is it?"

"Oh! Yes! Bumble! Uh… my name's Nigel Bumble. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Frye!" Nigel could barely contain his excitement.

"Nigel here's been following some of us around for the past few days," Walter explained, "Been asking if he can join our ranks. I told him to take it up with you, and he's been mustering up the courage to do so ever since. He's an eager fellow, but has a knack for finding trouble."

Nigel smiled sheepishly.

"How old are you?" Jacob asked.

"Sixteen, sir," Nigel responded, "Could I please join, sir?"

"Hm, I don't know about that," Jacob replied, "You're a bit young, and as you've seen tonight, being a Rooks isn't as glamorous as you might think it is," Jacob tried not to sound as though that very fact _was just now dawning on_ _him_ as well.

 _But it was._

"I won't disappoint you, sir. Just give me a chance. _Please_ …" Nigel looked as though he would shed tears if Jacob refused him, but the ringing bells of a police carriages interrupted the assassin before he could respond.

"I'll think about it, Nigel," Jacob shouted as the three of them began running away from the pub, "Head home for now, kid. And Wally, get some rest. We're just getting started."

"Okay Mr. Frye!" Nigel proclaimed happily, and the three men split off into the night.

Halfway to Henry's apartment, Jacob stopped at a meeting spot beneath a twisted tree at a small park. There was a figure standing there waiting for him- one of the two individuals he had spoken to shortly before the incident at the pub.

"Just a quick drink, eh?" The woman's voice was low and smooth as silk. She had pale skin and a black bob. She was also remarkably short, and while Jacob himself was below average height for a man, the top of her head barely reached Jacob's chin.

"Things didn't turn out quite like I was expecting," As usual, Jacob attempted to make light of a bad situation, but there was no smile on his face, "Where's your friend?" he added, referring to the man she was with earlier.

"Oh, he's around," the mysterious short woman responded.

"Right. So what have you learned?" Jacob asked. He was sure no Blighters were lurking about- he certainly couldn't sense any- but he dropped his voice anyway.

"We spotted Rexford Kaylock driving a carriage full of his goons not long ago."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. That may very well have been Kaylock behind the reigns of the carriage he'd hit with his smoke bomb.

"You are known to him now, and he wants you and your sister dead. He's bald, has a black beard, and is quite large. Huge even." 

" _Everyone's_ huge compared to you," Jacob interrupted, smiling cheerily as the woman crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"He also has an interesting little device at his disposal," she continued, "One that you may be interested in obtaining for yourself."

"Oh? Is it sharp and shiny?" the assassin quipped.

"It shoots grappling hooks that allow Kaylock to traverse great distances in a very short amount of time. It's his greatest advantage."

"It _was_ his greatest advantage," Jacob grinned and said his goodbyes to his informant, "Thanks for the tip, smalley,"

"Any time," the woman replied, rolling her eyes.

It was just after midnight when Jacob reached Henry's apartment, and he made an effort to enter quietly in case Evie and Henry were already asleep. He instead discovered the two of them seated on a couch on the other side of the room with their faces hardly an inch away from one another, literally moments away from kissing.

"Oh, what have we _here_?" Jacob asked in a scandalous tone, his eyes bright with amusement.

Evie and Henry practically flew off the couch.

"I, we were just…," Henry floundered. Evie simply glared with such intensity that Jacob could swear he felt a burning sensation on the skin between his eyes.

"It's late. What have you been up to?" Evie asked him, her tone somewhat sharp.

"Tell you what," Jacob chuckled, peeling off his jacket, "I'll let you know if you tell me what _you've_ been up to." Jacob's eyes darted back and forth between Evie and Henry as he said it. Truth be told, he most certainly did _not_ want to know the details of what his sister and Henry were doing in private, and he was also certain that Evie would never tell him about it. So if Evie didn't have to explain herself, then neither did Jacob.

Henry blushed at Jacob's insinuation and ran a hand through his hair.

"We've been searching for the Shroud, Jacob. Don't you ever pay attention?" Evie retorted, the annoyance clear in her voice, "And I'm sure I already know what _you've_ been doing. We heard police bells not long ago. _Lots_ of police bells, and I'm willing to bet you had something to do with it."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Jacob responded brusquely with a shrug, removing his hidden blade gauntlet.

"You need to start taking things seriously, Jacob," Evie's tone remained even, but Jacob could tell that his sister's annoyance was verging on anger as she spoke, "While you're off playing gangster and tearing London apart, do you ever stop to think about how your little games affect others?"

Jacob narrowed his eyes. He hated it when Evie took to scolding him. The fact that she had a legitimate point only made it worse. Jacob was about to leave the room, but Evie beat him to it.

"Good night, Jacob," she said tersely as she walked past him and into her room, closing the door behind her.

Jacob neither responded to nor looked at her as she left. He just stood there, tense from head to toe with his eyes downcast, his brow knotted, and his hands balled up into fists.

At a loss for words of any kind, Henry quickly brushed past Jacob, followed Evie into her room, and closed the door behind him.

Alone in Henry's living room, Jacob continued to stand there. He was thinking about what Evie had said and about what had transpired today. Jacob was convinced that his cause was a good one. The Blighters had to be stopped, but at what cost? He had all but torn that pub to the ground tonight, and more of his Rooks lay lifeless on its floor.

Jacob sighed and removed the book of pressed flowers from his jacket pocket. He tossed it onto Henry's desk then made his way into his own room. He locked the door and sat down on his messy little bed.

He was trying to decide whether he should order his Rooks to play it safer, to be more cautious from now on like Evie was implying, or to double down and play things faster and harder in order to end this blossoming gang war more quickly. It only took Jacob a few moments to make his decision.

After preparing himself for sleep, Jacob glanced at the empty half of his bed and suddenly wished he had someone to fill it the way Evie did.


End file.
